


Artless

by Magical_Destiny



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Babysitting, Bruce Feels, Clint Barton's Farm, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Natasha Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4621236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Destiny/pseuds/Magical_Destiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha asks for Bruce’s help on the most dangerous mission they’ve ever faced: babysitting the Barton clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrstater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/gifts).



> This is a post-AoU fic in which Bruce returned to the Avengers after a short time bumming around in Fiji. I avoided those pesky Infinity Wars. And Civil War. There are no wars of any kind in this fic, because where’s the fluff in that?  
> 
> 
> Most importantly, this is a gift fic for [ mrstater](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater) on the occasion of her birthday. <3
> 
> I ran with one of your prompts... I hope you enjoy this heaping helping of fluff-angst, my dear! And I also hope you have a truly fantastic birthday. Thanks for the chats, the fic encouragement, and the headcanons both ridiculous and tragic. May your day be full of fun, fluff, and Fluffalo.

“Bruce, I could really use your help on this.”

Natasha's voice was earnest, but even hundreds of miles away and connected only by the tenuous thread of a slightly fuzzy cell connection, Bruce felt certain that she wasn’t speaking the absolute truth. He stepped away from the monitor he had begun to ignore the moment Natasha’s name flashed on his caller ID, and turned to lean against the closed door of his lab. 

“You’ve never needed my help on any mission, Natasha. Least of all this one.” He missed her badly after a few days apart, but the sort of reunion she was suggesting didn’t strike him as ideal. The memories alone would be a problem, not to mention the possibility of complete disaster that accompanied his involvement with any situation. Especially one as delicate as this. “You’ll be fine without me,” he concluded, but winced when he heard the hint of indecision in his voice. 

Natasha didn’t miss it, either. “You’re right,” she said flatly, and he could imagine the way she must be smirking at him. “I can do this.” She paused, and the crackle of the phone line seemed loud against her silence. “But I miss you,” she added in a low voice. He wondered if she was speaking quietly to avoid being overheard, or if it was just difficult for her to make that sort of admission. Most of all, he wondered how she could make him change his mind so easily. 

“Does Barton even want me there?” he stalled.

“He said I can have boys over,” she answered, and he could practically hear her grin. “And it’s fine, Bruce. You know that.”

He knew nothing of the kind, but he probably should, by now. Natasha thought so, judging by the hint of reproof in her tone. The concept of being accepted and even welcomed had always been difficult for him to grasp, but he found it harder than ever these days, trapped in the shadow of what had happened in Johannesburg nearly a year before. But he knew Natasha worried about him and his tendency to isolate himself; for her sake, he was willing to fight the temptation. 

“Okay,” he surrendered. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“Oh, that wasn’t the nice way. I’ll show you the nice way when you get here.” Months with Natasha, and she could still make his heart rate spike without half trying. It was disconcerting and uncomfortable.

And so much fun. 

His smile was instant and involuntary, another aspect of himself that seemed to have abandoned his will and sworn allegiance to Natasha.“Guess I better get moving, then,” he answered. Isolation was boring, anyway. Of course, everything was boring in comparison to Natasha Romanoff.

“Good. I was afraid I’d have to track you down and stage a kidnapping, and that’s always a hassle.”

He laughed and lingered on the phone, chatting aimlessly in response to Natasha’s questions about what he was working on, how Tony was, and whether he’d been sleeping. The simple answers to those questions were nothing special, same as always, and no, but he elaborated a little for her benefit, and stretched out the conversation as long as possible for his own.

It was Clint’s exasperated voice that finally brought the moment to an end. “How long have you been on the phone? I keep expecting you to say ‘No, _you_ hang up first,’” he muttered in the background. 

“Sorry, Bruce, I’ve got to go. Scathing comebacks to deliver.”

“Knock ‘em dead,” he said. Natasha laughed, and he felt an embarrassing level of loss when she finally hung up. 

He glanced at his watch; he needed to leave as soon as possible if he was going to make it in time to help Natasha with what might be the most difficult and unprecedented mission they had ever faced. As he hurriedly threw together an overnight bag, Bruce was inclined to shake off his nerves about this unusual mission and concentrate on how wonderful it would be to see Natasha for the first time in days. But as he finally left the relative safety of the Tower, an itch started in the back of his mind. 

This mission could be a complete disaster if things went badly. And what if Natasha hadn’t just been sweet-talking him? What if she really did want his help?

He realized far too late that it might have been a mistake to agree to babysitting.

* * *

He heard Cooper and Lila’s excited shouts before he even reached the door. He knocked lightly, and the sudden, brief silence was superseded by the pounding of little feet. Lila’s face appeared at one of the windows. He released his grip on his bag to wave, but she had turned back into the house. “Auntie Nat! He’s here, Auntie Nat!” Her smile flashed in his direction and she disappeared again.

The locks turned, the door opened, and Natasha stood behind the screen door wearing jeans, a plain, black t-shirt, and balancing baby Nathaniel on her hip. Lila, her hair arranged in two messy braids, was plastered against her right leg and Cooper hovered slightly behind. They’d both grown several inches since his visit with the Avengers. It took him a moment, but Bruce managed a smile.

He had forgotten what it was like to see her with the kids. 

“Hi, guys,” he said, and abruptly remembered how wrong-footed he felt when talking to children. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for him. Thankfully he had somewhere else to put his attention. “Natasha,” he said, his voice less suave and more breathless than he wanted, but he decided immediately that he didn’t care. He was so glad to see her. She smiled and pushed the screen door open. It was difficult to kiss her properly when they were juggling an overnight bag and a baby, but they managed. Bruce caught Cooper’s look of disgust and bit back a grin. “So was that the nice way?” he whispered.

“Slow down, tiger,” Natasha rebuked, but her smile was full of promise. “Guys, say hi to Dr. Banner.” She glanced at Lila and Cooper expectantly. 

“Hi, Dr. Banner,” Cooper supplied without hesitation. His voice had deepened noticeably since the year before. “Aunt Nat, can I have my computer time now?” 

“Sure, Coop.” And just like that, he was gone. Lila was still anchored to Natasha’s leg by one hand, but she drifted in his direction. 

“Hi,” she said, looking at his face intently. He wondered whether she remembered him. They had drawn pictures together in the living room off to his right. Lila had drawn the Hulk, and had been very proud of the picture until she was distracted by drawing princesses and butterflies. Still, coming in third was a higher public opinion rating than he usually received. His smile came naturally.

“Hi, _Dr. Banner_ ,” Natasha prompted.

Lila nodded, but didn’t take her eyes from his face. “Hi,” she repeated.

Natasha laughed and shrugged. “I tried.” He couldn’t help but stare at her for a moment. He remembered the voice she used with the kids. It was careful and gentle and completely different from any other tone he’d ever heard her adopt. Although maybe that wasn’t quite true; the Other Guy recognized the affection and the gentleness of that voice. And Bruce had heard something close to it himself in recent months.

Her eyes met his and he forced himself back into the present moment. This house always seemed to stir up far too much reflection. 

“Come in, Bruce. We’re getting ready for a movie night.” She turned back toward the living room, and Lila trailed behind her, still latched onto one of her belt loops. The baby stared over Natasha's shoulder with wide eyes.

“I have a little brother now,” Lila blurted, staring at him.

Bruce wondered whether she was looking for a congratulation or a condolence. He suddenly remembered how difficult it had been to talk with Lila last time. She was a confusing mixture of solemn stares, blunt questions, and brilliant smiles. 

“Do you like being a big sister?” he tried. 

“Yes,” she answered. “But he’s really annoying.” Natasha turned a stern look on Lila and she responded with a charming, if guilty, smile. “He cries a lot,” Lila justified. “Auntie Nat, are we eating dinner soon?”

“Very soon, sweetheart. Why don’t you go play and I’ll get the movie ready.” Lila all but skipped out of the room, her braids bouncing behind her, and he heard her light steps ascend the stairs.

There were approximately five seconds of silence before the first _thump_ sounded over their heads. Raised voices were followed by a stampede to the stairs. “Aunt Nat!” came Cooper’s voice. “Lila won’t get out of my room!” 

“I want to play the game,” Lila’s voice whined. “Mom says you have to share!”

Bruce glanced toward Natasha, but he was quickly distracted by Nathaniel’s wide stare. The baby’s face crumpled and a he drew in a hitched breath that pulled Natasha’s attention from what sounded like a building scuffle on the upstairs landing. When his piercing wail finally emerged, it drowned out his siblings. Natasha lifted an eyebrow at Bruce. 

“And you thought I wasn’t serious about needing backup,” she reproved with a smirk. 

Bruce couldn’t think of an appropriate reply. Of course, he couldn’t really think at all in the sudden cacophony.

“Welcome,” Natasha whispered, and her grin could only be described as _evil_. “To babysitting.”

His horror must have been apparent on his face, because Natasha was quick to laugh at him. “You want to break them up?” she asked, indicating the stairway with a nod. 

“Um,” was his eloquent reply.

Natasha sighed. “Hold this,” she instructed, and slid Nathaniel into his arms before he could protest that he had never held a baby before. Natasha disappeared around the corner and up the stairs before he could call her back. The baby’s cries subsided into weak sniffles as Nathaniel stared with round, damp eyes at Bruce’s face. 

“Hi,” Bruce tried, and hoped that he wasn’t holding the baby incorrectly. How were you even supposed to hold a baby? He probably should have picked up a few points about infant care during his days of under-the-radar medical work, but babies hadn’t made up much of his patient demographic. He remembered something about supporting the head, but Nathaniel seemed to be able to keep his head upright on his own. Bruce eventually settled for propping him against his side.

Nathaniel said nothing — was he old enough to talk yet? — and the only remnants of his crying fit were the leftover tears that sparkled in his eyes. A few slid down his cheeks as he stared at Bruce in something like confusion. 

“Yeah, I know,” Bruce muttered. “I’m a stranger. Auntie Nat is coming right back, I promise.”

They stared at each other for a few long seconds and Bruce noticed distantly that the scuffle upstairs had fallen into silence. He wasn’t surprised that Natasha was just as accomplished at resolving child-sized conflicts as global ones. 

Nathaniel’s forehead contracted and the oversized head tilted down suddenly. Bruce felt an instant of indistinct panic about the structural integrity of the tiny neck and whether he should have been supporting his head after all, but one chubby fist grasped for his pocket and he finally realized that the baby was just grabbing for his glasses. His relief was fleeting; they were his only pair. 

“Natasha,” he called, and the note of alarm in his voice was distant, but still embarrassing. 

“Over here,” she said, and he turned to find her leaning against the entryway to the living room. How long had she been standing there?

“A little help?” he asked. Nathaniel’s tiny fingers were relentless in their quest. Natasha scooped him up just in time to save the glasses.

“What is your deal, little man?” she cooed, kissing one full cheek. Nathaniel giggled. Natasha’s smile crumpled into a grimace when she pulled back. “So it’s like that, huh?” she muttered. Bruce was mystified until she added, “Diaper duty.” Natasha planted the baby on her hip as she turned back to the stairs. 

“You managed to get them settled pretty quickly,” he called after her. “Did you use some of those spy secrets you’re always telling me about?" 

She rolled her eyes at him. ”No. It was a high-level emergency, so I —”

Lila bounded into the living room, bearing a pile of pillows and trailing blankets behind her. “I got them, Auntie Nat,” she said breathlessly. 

“— initiated Operation Pillow Fort,” Natasha finished. “Works every time.” She turned to address Lila. “Dr. Banner’s going to help you get started on our fort, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Lila gave him a quick, appraising look. “Okay,” she agreed. 

“I’m gonna go handle this Code Green,” Natasha said with a smirk, and disappeared up the stairs.

“Ewwww,” Lila answered. She caught the confused look Bruce sent after Natasha. “The poop is green,” she explained in a scandalized whisper, but her discretion was rendered pointless when she burst into loud laughter. 

Bruce was speechless.

* * *

They constructed a fort, or, as Bruce was soon corrected, a _castle_ , out of pillows, couch cushions, and a few thin blankets. Natasha inspected their progress when she returned, but quickly left them to it when it was time to pull the pizza from the oven. Cooper reappeared for dinner, and tried to discreetly vanish once it was time to clear the table.

“Coop,” Natasha warned. “Help your sister clean up while I give the baby a bath.”

He sighed, but didn’t resist. “Yes, Aunt Nat.”

Bruce wasn’t sure where he fell in the hierarchy of who should clean what, but he helped clear the plates and cups. Lila offered direction when he looked lost. “Put those in the dishwasher,” she said, pointing at the plastic cups in his hand. Cooper rinsed the plates and lined them up in the bottom rack; Bruce managed the cups and moved on to the silverware. Lila stationed herself on a step stool by the sink and supervised him. “You put the knives in the other part,” she corrected. 

“Thanks,” he answered, and moved the offending silverware. She gave a satisfied nod. 

“Are you a doctor?” she asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” he started. It took a moment for him to remember that his definition of the word might differ from hers. “Wait — no. Not that type of doctor. Not really, anyway. I don’t give shots,” he confided in a whisper. Her look of confusion melted into a wide smile. 

“Good,” she approved. “I don’t like doctors.”

“That’s because you’re a scaredy cat,” Cooper muttered as he wiped off the table. 

Lila frowned at him, and Bruce moved quickly to avoid any more fighting. He might not be as accomplished as Natasha with conflict resolution, but he was an expert when it came to preventing conflict before it began. “I don’t like doctors either,” he admitted. 

“They give shots,” Lila agreed. “And sometimes they look in your ears and it really hurts.”

“Yikes,” said Bruce with a sympathetic grimace. “That’s no fun.”

Lila spun to face the countertop and pressed her hands flat against the surface. Her toes were still settled on the step stool, but she leaned forward until they didn’t hold any of her weight. It was from this unlikely position that she posed her next question.

“What’s your job?”

Bruce was distracted for a long moment by wondering whether he should be telling her to get down. He eventually realized she was waiting for an answer. 

“What?”

“What’s your job?” she repeated, swinging her feet now. “You’re not a doctor.” 

Cooper paused in the middle of wiping down the countertops. 

“That,” Bruce answered slowly, “Is a very good question.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Natasha’s voice interceded as she returned to the kitchen. Nathaniel looked pink and scrubbed at her side. “ _That’s_ his job.”

Cooper sighed loudly and returned to his work with renewed energy.

“That’s not a job,” Lila protested with a look of genuine bewilderment.

Bruce had a very stupid idea and he selected a very stupid grin to go with it. “Well, it has a great benefits package…”

Natasha gave him a sweet smile that worried him much more than her scary looks. That smile was a harbinger of doom. But it was Nathaniel that she spoke to. “I’m going to get him later,” she cooed at the baby. “Yes, I am!” Nathaniel sucked on his fist and giggled happily.

“Aren’t you an Avenger?” Cooper interjected, and Bruce was infinitely glad that Natasha’s revenge planning had been interrupted. “With dad and Aunt Nat?”

He hesitated for a beat too long, and he saw Natasha’s shoulders slump fractionally. As always, she was disappointed when he held back from being a part of the team. “Yes,” he replied at last, more to erase her frown than because he really felt it. “I am.”

“So that’s your job,” Cooper pressed. 

“I guess so,” he agreed. 

“All right, guys,” Natasha announced, her voice a reprieve from the interrogation. “It’s movie time.”

* * *

Bruce didn’t recognize the animated movie that Natasha put on for the kids, but he’d been out of touch for months after the Ultron crisis, and he’d spent the time since his return catching up with Natasha and not with pop culture, so that wasn’t surprising. He wasn’t really interested in paying attention to the movie, anyway, not with Natasha sitting beside him for the first time in days. They were in a room full of children and Natasha had a baby on her lap, so he couldn’t do much with the situation, but he was glad when she sat close beside him so he could keep an arm around her shoulders. Lila took the other end of the three-seat couch, and Cooper settled himself on the floor. Natasha kept Nathaniel supplied with teething rings and stuffed toys and he remained remarkably content for a while.

His wide, brown eyes drifted to Lila, who made faces until he laughed, to Natasha, who gave him kisses and fresh toys, and finally to Bruce. Bruce had nothing to offer except a weak smile, which Nathaniel suddenly returned. “What?” Natasha asked him, following his eyeline. “You want to go say hi to Bruce?” 

“No, that’s not —“ he started, but she was already passing him the baby. He suddenly had both hands full of a giggling infant in a onesie. Nathaniel gave a grin that displayed exactly four tiny teeth and purpose awoke in his eyes. He reached out for Bruce’s face with both fists and made a grab for the glasses Bruce had donned to watch the movie. Bruce turned him around and settled him in his lap — and well out of range of the glasses. Natasha passed Nathaniel a stuffed toy which he promptly seized and stuffed into his mouth. It was hard to make out in the dim room, but Bruce eventually realized that the baby was drooling on a tiny plush Hulk. He hadn’t realized they still made those.

Natasha leaned close. “Look at that,” she whispered. “He likes you.” His expression must have inspired some pity, because Natasha brushed her lips fleetingly over his. “You’re doing fine,” she whispered, and then took advantage of having a baby-free lap to curl up against his side. Lila, in turn, leaned against Natasha.

“What are you guys doing?” Cooper’s voice drifted up from the floor.

“Making a cuddle pile,” Natasha replied, and he felt her shrug. Cooper just shook his head as Lila giggled. 

Nathaniel’s movements started to grow sluggish as he alternated bashing the mini Hulk against the couch and stuffing it into his mouth. He relaxed against Bruce’s chest after a few minutes, and Bruce realized with a shock that he was falling asleep. “Little traitor,” Natasha whispered beside him. “He never falls asleep in _my_ arms like that.” She gently shifted Lila as she sat up. “I’ll put him to bed.”

Bruce was more than ready to surrender the baby, and he shifted Nathaniel’s negligible weight onto one arm in preparation. Nathaniel huffed in sleepy consternation, turning to press his face into Bruce’s shirt and seizing his collar with one tiny fist. Bruce smiled despite himself, and wondered how Natasha was going to manage an extraction of this complexity. He had half a mind to ask her, but Natasha was silent and unmoving beside him. He finally glanced her way.

Natasha’s face was frozen in the pale light of the television as she looked at Nathaniel dozing against his chest, and he saw her veneer of rigid control, even as he recognized the telltale cracks around her mouth and eyes. He’d seen that look once before, in this same house. It was the look she’d worn when they had spoken about their shared loss, when he’d explained that he could never have children.

It was the look she’d worn when she had explained that neither could she.

The pain slid from her face before he could reach for her hand or open his mouth to speak. She reached for Nathaniel in silence, but her eyes met his briefly. The grief he found there made his chest ache. She lifted Nathaniel with infinite care and settled him against her shoulder as she drifted out of the living room and up the stairs. 

She avoided his eyes when she returned, but reclaimed her seat beside him. She reached for his hand just as he started to offer it, and pulled his arm around her shoulders, threading their fingers as if to lock it in place. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and they finished the movie in silence. 

* * *

Natasha’s announcement of bedtime was met with groans all around. Cooper surrendered before Lila, who had immediately made a desperate dive into her half-collapsed pillow fort.

“Out of the fort, Lila,” Natasha called, plucking the pillows from over her head and tossing them to Bruce. 

“It’s a _castle_ ,” Lila corrected, and squealed as Natasha scooped her up at last. 

“You’re getting too big for this,” Natasha groaned as she started up the stairs with Lila in her arms.

Bruce trailed behind with his arms full of the ruins of Lila’s “castle,” and followed the pair of them into Lila’s room. Her overflowing fascination with princesses and butterflies seemed to be universal; it was the only decorative motif he could identify in the room. He narrowly avoided tripping over some sort of playhouse as he brought the pile of pillows and blankets to the bed. Natasha deposited Lila in front of her dresser and pulled some clothes from one of the drawers. 

“Pajamas. Tooth brushing.” Natasha ticked off the list on her fingers and added, “See if you can beat me.” Lila raced to the bathroom.

“Hey, Coop, you ready for bed?” she called softly, and Bruce remembered that they had an infant to avoid waking up. Another bedroom door opened and Cooper’s voice floated into the hallway. 

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

Natasha leaned into the room. “You sure you don’t want a bedtime story?” Bruce could almost hear Cooper’s long-suffering stare. “Right. Too old for that,” Natasha replied with a grin. “Goodnight, Coop.”

“Goodnight, Aunt Nat.” She closed the door silently. 

“Lila’s bedtime routine is a little more involved. If you want to get some rest, we’re in the guest room.” She pointed down the hall at the same room he remembered from their previous stay. He would have found that slightly disconcerting if he hadn’t been so fixated on the fact that he would finally be alone with Natasha in a few minutes. 

“I’ll stick with you,” he replied, and was rewarded with a smile.

They found Lila sitting on her bed and wearing a huge grin. Natasha groaned dramatically. “You _beat_ me,” she complained. Lila giggled in delight as Natasha settled cross-legged on the foot of her bed. “What story are we reading tonight?” Natasha asked. Lila turned to dig through the shelf that was built into her bed’s headboard.

Bruce scanned the room for a place to sit. The only options were the chair by a desk in the corner, a pink bean bag, or the playhouse-strewn floor. Bruce went for the chair. The desk looked like an elaborate coloring station judging by the scattered crayons and papers. A few drawings were displayed on a cork board hanging from the wall above; Bruce identified princesses, horses, and family portraits. Clint was shooting an arrow in his picture, and Natasha’s crayon likeness was featured as part of Lila’s self-portrait. They were holding hands and smiling. 

“You coming, Bruce?” Natasha’s voice called him back to reality, and he pulled the chair alongside the bed. “Dr. Banner is going to read with us tonight, okay?” She directed the question at Lila, who nodded immediately. Lila’s gaze turned evaluating. 

“Are you a good reader?” she asked, and Bruce was astonished at the hint of skepticism in her tone. 

“Uh, yes. I’m a good reader,” he reassured, ignoring Natasha’s snort of laughter. Lila nodded again and turned back to her bookshelf. 

“You can read, too,” she declared magnanimously, and handed him a picture book. A cookie and an anthropomorphic mouse graced the cover. Natasha’s ability to stifle her laugh was weakening, or else she wasn’t trying very hard. He was tempted to stick his tongue out at her.

Of course, that would be a terrible example for Lila.

“Thanks,” he replied, and sent Natasha a lofty look. She _did_ stick her tongue out at him, just before Lila looked back in her direction. Now that was playing dirty. He found himself smiling anyway.

Natasha moved to sit beside Lila as she read, and Bruce noted that she read beautifully. She did voices for each character and her comic timing was perfect. Lila laughed in the right places and leaned against Natasha’s shoulder. The smiles gracing their faces were soft and happy. 

An ache filled his chest without warning, and all at once he thought he might understand what Natasha had been feeling just a few minutes before. It was like looking through a window into another universe and seeing a fleeting glimpse of what might have been, a flash that faded in the same moment it flared to life. Natasha, reading to her own children. Maybe even to _their_ children. The pain of that thought was white-hot and he flinched away from it. The searing glimpse disappeared, leaving only a blessed numbness in its wake when Natasha shut the book and set it aside. 

“You’re up, Bruce,” she said, lifting an eyebrow at him. Lila turned in his direction and waited expectantly. 

He didn’t read with nearly the same expression or finesse as Natasha, but it must have been acceptable, because Lila was smiling when he finished. Natasha had a strange look on her face, but he didn’t have time to analyze it before Lila interrupted his thoughts. “Good job,” she said seriously, and held out a hand for her book. 

“Thanks,” he replied. Natasha was giving him a warm smile that made him hope that bedtime was almost over.

“Alright, sweetheart, it’s time to go to sleep,” Natasha said, standing up to pull back the covers. Lila looked faintly rebellious, but she climbed under the blanket. Her eyes scanned the room.

“Oh!” she cried with the air of a condemned man suddenly offered reprieve. “Wait! I have to give him something.” She pointed at Bruce and bounced out of her bed. 

“You have to give _Dr. Banner_ something?” Natasha pressed.

“Yes,” Lila agreed, scampering to the crayon-covered desk. Natasha sighed as Lila hunted through the pages. Her little hands wandered into the cubbies of the desk and her face lit up with a smile as she finally found whatever it was she was looking for. “Here,” she declared, and handed him a dusty, folded square of paper. Bruce stared in confusion. “Open it,” Lila urged. She caught Natasha’s eye, and quickly headed for her bed. 

Bruce unfolded the square slowly. A big, green blob with a lopsided smile looked up at him, followed by a tiny black stick figure with a shock of red hair. 

“It’s your picture,” Lila explained, and she leaped into her bed, bouncing several times after her landing. 

“What’s the rule about jumping on your bed?” Natasha asked.

“That was an accident,” Lila assured solemnly. “I saved the picture for you,” she said in Bruce’s direction. “You forgot it last time.”

He _had_ left it behind, but not in the way she imagined. He remembered looking at it one last time, and wavering between the wastebasket and his pocket. It had been a bad moment, a moment of doubt even though Natasha’s reassurances were still ringing in his ears. While he couldn’t quite bear to throw it away, he also couldn’t carry it with him, a symbol of innocence and hope and everything he couldn’t feel in that moment. So he’d left it on the bed, carefully folded. He’d thought about that picture a lot in the days after leaving the Avengers. He was suddenly glad to have it back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he was at a loss for what else to say. Natasha came to his rescue, as always.

“Okay, now it’s _really_ bedtime,” she insisted, and began to tuck Lila in. 

“Wait!” Lila cried out. “We forgot hugs!”

Natasha adopted a horrified look. “How could we forget hugs?” she asked in a scandalized tone. Lila giggled and rose up on her knees, arms outstretched. “Goodnight, Auntie Nat.” That was Bruce’s cue to leave. He folded the paper carefully, slipped it into his pocket, and dragged his borrowed chair back into place. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Natasha said behind him. She gave Lila a hug and a swift kiss on the cheek as he returned to hover beside the bed. “Sweet dreams.” 

Lila sat back on her heels, and turned a pair of uncertain eyes toward him. She wanted a hug, he realized abruptly. He had just started to open his arms in invitation; she grinned and threw herself into them. She was a tiny thing, all knees and elbows and swinging braids. 

“Goodnight, Uncle Bruce,” she said into his ear. 

He found it hard to speak past the sudden lump in his throat. “Goodnight, Lila.”

The rush of affection and sorrow that suddenly overwhelmed him was potent enough that Natasha must have seen it, but she turned away to reach for the light switch. Giving him a moment, he realized. He loved her the more for it.

She turned off the light as Lila finally settled under her covers. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

They filed into the hallway; she pulled the door shut and turned to look at him. “Alone at last,” he offered with a weak smile, still feeling slightly watery after Lila’s goodnight. Natasha’s lips curved faintly and she seized his hand and pulled him back to the familiar guest bedroom. As soon as the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his middle and dropped her head against his shoulder. 

“Hi,” she murmured. 

“Hi,” he echoed, and leaned in to kiss her properly. She hummed in approval and brought a hand to his face when she finally pulled away. Her thumb grazed his cheek as she smirked at him. 

“I _did_ miss you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he admonished with a grin. 

“Why not?” she retorted. “You always sound surprised when I call you. Or kiss you. Or —“

“Point taken,” he interrupted. He had designs on kissing her again, but she untangled herself from his arms. 

“I’m going to grab the baby monitor. You’re about to discover the joys of sleeping at the whims of a baby.” She gave him another slightly evil smile and slipped through the door before he could sigh. His bag was lying on the bed, and he started to dig through it before Natasha returned. 

“I need a shower —” he started.

“After traveling all day? Yes, you do,” she agreed with a smirk. He glared at her half-heartedly, but his treacherous smile appeared, as always, in her presence.

“You could join me, you know. For old times’ sake.” He was kidding, of course.

Unless she decided to go for it.

“Hmm.” Natasha sidled across the room with an alarming sway in her hips. Bruce’s breath hitched even _before_ her hands ghosted over his sides and her lips were a hair’s breadth from his. “I’m not sure that’s part of the benefits package,” she breathed against his lips, and grinned as she turned away to dig through her own suitcase. 

Bruce groaned. “I was _kidding_.”

“Your jokes are terrible,” she replied in a conversational tone, sorting through her stash of clothes.

It was very rare that he had the opportunity to get a smart-ass word in edgewise when it came to Natasha, so when he saw the opportunity, he ran with it. “You should know,” he said lightly. “I stole half of them from you.”

Natasha froze and he almost managed to keep his grin in check as she turned her icy stare towards him. But her lips were twitching when she finally replied: “Touché.” She let the lid of her suitcase fall shut as she turned away empty-handed, drifting over to inspect his bag. She swiftly plucked one of his shirts from inside with a nod. “Thanks for bringing my favorite pjs,” she said sweetly. 

Bruce had brought extras for exactly that purpose. She swiped them all the time at the Tower. 

“My pleasure,” he answered, and the look in her eye made him hopeful about revisiting the shower conversation…

A sound somewhere between a cough and a hiccup crackled over the baby monitor Natasha had deposited by the bed and they both froze in dread. A few tense seconds crawled by before they relaxed again. 

“Go ahead and shower,” Natasha said after a moment. “I’d better stay out here in case he decides to go on one of his sleep strikes.”

Bruce’s disappointment was profound. He distracted himself by asking the question that had been rolling around in his head for most of the day. 

“The kids — you’re really good with them. How often do you watch them?” In the time they’d been together, she’d visited the Bartons on a regular basis, but it wasn’t a subject they had discussed in depth. The memories of the farm were difficult ones for both of them. He suddenly hoped that might be different, now.

“Not as much as I’d like,” she shrugged, and worried his shirt absently between her fingertips. “I volunteered for babysitting duty a long time ago. Clint and Laura don’t get a lot of date nights, but when they do, they call me. They get time away, I get time with the kids. Why?” she broke off and fixed him with a smirk. “You offering to help?”

"No, no,” he waved her off. “I wasn't much help tonight.”

"Are you kidding? They loved you. Even the little traitor. Do you know how long it took that kid to smile at me? And he gave you a smile in one day.” She sighed dramatically. “Clint’s family is turning into a boys' club.” Her pause shifted almost imperceptibly from humor into something more purposeful. “You should come with me more often.”

Natasha was always careful with her words, always gentle when she had to come near the wounds and the tender places. She’d been asking him to come back into the world a little at a time, and always with cautious, well-measured steps. Never asking more than he could give, never demanding anything from him. Just asking, and letting him know that she would be very happy if he said yes. 

Which was, of course, why he could almost never bring himself to say no.

He slid his hands into his pockets as he stalled, and his fingers brushed against the dusty square of paper. Lila’s artless words floated through his mind. _Uncle Bruce._

Natasha could always read him far too well; she was already smiling in victory. “Okay,” he answered. His thoughts wandered fleetingly over his days alone after the last struggle with Ultron as she crossed the room and slid her arms around his neck. The solitary days spent staring alternately at the sea, news reports, and racks of postcards dissolved before his eyes when she spoke. 

“You know,” she said softly, “I never did show you the nice way.” And she threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a kiss. 

He relished the gentle press of her lips, curved into a soft smile against his, felt the folded paper in his pocket, light as air but granted weight and substance through the affection of the child who had given it as a gift, and he wondered that isolation had ever seemed appealing.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is tied fleetingly into [ A Thousand Words,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4163448) my other one-shot involving BruceNat and the Barton children. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this ficlet! Please comment and let me know if you did. :) And if you're looking for further BruceNat goodness, check out [ mrstater's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater) profile for some of my favorite BruceNat fics, including her excellent pre- _Age of Ultron_ fic [ Sun's Getting Low](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3915883/chapters/8766250) which is hilarious, moving, and wonderful.


End file.
